


The Duty of a Dwarf

by hchollym



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Cousin Incest, I Don't Even Know, Implied Relationships, M/M, Omega!Gimli, Rare Omega Dwarfs Trope, References to Mpreg, Why Gimli Didn't Go on the Quest for Erebor, societal pressure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 16:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12708552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hchollym/pseuds/hchollym
Summary: "Sometimes, it is not about our happiness, but rather our duty.”In other words, my explanation for why Gimli was not allowed to go on the Quest for Erebor.





	The Duty of a Dwarf

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! I’m not even sure where to begin explaining this story, but I guess it stemmed from four main things:
> 
> 1\. I have always loved the trope of omegas being super rare to dwarves, so the dwarves are ridiculously protective of them as if omegas are their greatest treasure.  
> 2\. Then I suddenly had a thought of omegas being like women in history: thought to have their place in life, which is at home with the children, regardless of their actual wants.  
> 3\. Why the heck wasn’t Gimli allowed to go on the Quest for Erebor? He was 62, which was older than Dain, Thorin, and Frerin when they fought in the Battle of Azanulbizar, so it doesn’t make any sense.  
> 4\. I like the idea of Gimli being an omega – still strong and fierce and rebellious of his status.
> 
> I decided to combine these ideas, and hopefully it didn’t turn out too strange.
> 
> The pairings listed are really only implied. Sorry. 
> 
> Last but not least, I want to make it clear that I am not trying to bash Gloin or any of the other dwarves; I am simply trying to explore the idea of a society with strict omega/alpha roles.

The first time Gimli truly understood what it meant to be an omega, he had been thirty. His mother and the Lady Dis had been discussing how frustrating it had been to be courted by so many simply because they were omegas. They spoke of how it had been difficult to know who truly cared for them and who only cared for their status. 

Gimli had listened politely, nodding sympathetically. Up until that point, he still felt like there was a divide. He knew that he was an omega too, but he simply couldn’t connect his status with that of his mother’s. In his mind, they were two separate things, probably because of the difference in their genders. 

Then his mother had said “Soon enough you will experience the same thing, _uzfakuh_ , and you will need to be careful to examine your suitors to find the ones with true intentions.” Gimli had been taken aback. Why would he experience the same thing? Surely he would be the one who pursued others; not the one being pursued. He had voiced these thoughts, and his mother and the Lady Dis had looked at him fondly. 

They explained, in great detail, the meaning of his own status, and Gimli had felt the blood drain from his face. He ran out of the room, ignoring as they called out for him, and he did not stop running until he reached a secluded spot in the woods. He had no idea how far he had gone from home, but he didn’t care. 

He pulled out his axe and began striking a tree with as much strength as he possibly could, pouring all of his emotions into his swings. The trunk was splintering as Gimli’s unrelenting assault continued. He was furious and confused and more than a little resentful. Why did he have to be an omega? Omegas were not allowed to fight in battles and wars; it simply was not done. But Gimli was going to be a great warrior; strong and fierce. Everyone complimented him on his skill with the axe. 

Now he was merely supposed to sit around and give birth for the rest of his life? To stay behind and care for the children while the other dwarves marched off to war? It was not fair. Gimli wasn’t even sure that he wanted children at all, but he knew with absolute certainty that he did not want to be confined to the four walls of his home, like most omegas were. 

By the time the tree finally fell, Gimli felt the anger dissipate and leave behind only sorrow. He had fallen to the ground, panting heavily as he stared off into the distance at nothing, feeling utterly defeated. His father had found him like that sometime later, his eyes wide with terror. 

“Gimli! You cannot run off like that. It is too dangerous,” he accused. Gimli had huffed a self-deprecating laugh. 

“Why? Because I can not take care of myself because I am an _omega_?” He spat the word out as if it were venom, and Gloin had temporarily faltered in his steps from surprise. He slowly sat on the ground next to Gimli with a frown on his face. 

“What is bothering you, lad?” Gimli was embarrassed when he felt the tears well in his eyes, but he pushed through. 

“I don’t want to be an omega,” he said harshly. Gloin looked as if he had been slapped in the face. 

“How can you say such a thing? Omegas are rare to our kind and treasured beyond all the gold and gem in the world. Every omega born is a blessing from Mahal; it is how our race survives.” He seemed truly unable to comprehend Gimli’s bitterness, and Gimli sighed. 

“I know how important it is that our race continues. Children are few and far between because there are so few omegas, and I hold nothing but esteem and respect for the other omegas, but why do _I_ have to be one?” The last sentence came out as an almost-whine, and Gloin’s eyebrows rose high on his head. 

“Why would you not want to be? It is an honor,” he said with absolute conviction. Gimli couldn’t help the growl that escaped his mouth. 

“But omegas don’t fight!” He yelled. Gloin looked highly disturbed at the idea. 

“Of course not! We would never endanger the few omegas that we have!” He didn’t seem to be making the connection, and Gimli shook his head angrily. 

“That’s exactly my point, _adad_. I want to fight. I am a warrior; far better with a weapon than most dwarves my age. Why do they get to defend our people while I do not?” Gimli hoped that his father would see reason; that he would understand Gimli’s plight. 

Gloin had frowned, thinking over his question before finally responding, “I understand that you are disappointed, _nùdoy_. And yes, you could have been a great warrior; but you get the chance to do something that is much more important.” His voice held the tone of a true believer, but Gimli could not find it in his heart to agree. 

“And if you were an omega, would you be content to stay at home while others do the fighting for you?” he half-whispered. Gloin looked at him for a moment, seeming to consider the idea. His frown remained on his face as he chose his words carefully. 

“Sometimes, it is not about our happiness, but rather our duty,” he responded gently, and Gimli felt the anger surge inside him again. 

“And why am I cursed with this duty?” He stood, his hands balled in fists at his side, and Gloin rose as well as his frustration seemed to reach its peak. 

“You disrespect Mahal and your gift when you call it a curse!” he yelled back, his face red from anger, and Gimli felt something break inside of him. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and this time, he did not stop the tears that welled in his eyes from falling down his face. Even his own father couldn’t understand him; he was well and truly alone in his despair. 

“I will be miserable if I am never able to fight, _adad_. Is that the life that you wish for me?” He looked at his father pleadingly, and Gloin’s face softened at his tears. He pulled Gimli into a crushing hug. 

“Ah, my son. Do not worry yourself. You can continue to train along with the other dwarves your age. You will be able to defend yourself, if the need ever arises; I promise you that.” He pulled back and held Gimli’s face in his hands as he looked at him seriously. 

“Just because you do not see battle does not mean that you are not a fighter.” His words had some deep meaning to them, but it was beyond Gimli’s grasp. He felt his heart shattering into a million pieces. 

He would be able to train, but he would only ever be able to protect himself if everyone else he loved had already been cut down. He was doomed to sit back as the ones he loved fought his battles for him and grieve them once they were gone, knowing full well that he had done nothing to save them. He could not think of a more terrible fate. 

...

As the years went by, Gimli trained harder and longer than any other dwarf. He thought that, just maybe, if he proved himself to be an excellent fighter, than his status as an omega would no longer matter. 

He heard the whispers around the town of “the incredible omega warrior” and it only served to increase his ire and determination. He didn’t want to be known as the incredible _omega_ warrior. He wanted to simply be the incredible warrior. He hated how his status seemed to define him when he was so much more. 

Fili and Kili had taken it upon themselves to thwart any dwarves that attempted to court him, but Gimli could not bring himself to be grateful. He could protect himself. Hell, he was a better warrior than Fili and Kili combined, and everyone knew it, yet it did nothing to stop the two from being over protective of him, and it made Gimli want to scream. 

When the Quest for Erebor was announced, Gimli had been quick to volunteer, and he had been turned down just as quickly.

While Thorin was desperate for dwarves to join his company, he would not even consider the idea of Gimli coming along, despite the fact that he could be a tremendous asset to them. Dwalin himself considered Gimli to be his star pupil, but that compliment only ever went as far as the training grounds. 

It was never meant to apply to an actual battle, and Gimli wanted to laugh at the hypocrisy. Why were Kili and Fili and Ori allowed to go when they were far less capable of taking care of themselves than Gimli was? Gimli had yelled and fought to change their minds, but it did nothing to sway them. 

He finally resorted to practically begging Thorin. Gimli had grown up around Thorin; the king knew of his achievements and his skill, and Gimli silently prayed that it would be enough. Thorin had put one hand on Gimli’s shoulder and the other behind his head, forcing Gimli’s gaze on him. Thorin’s eyes were soft, and Gimli felt a hollow pit form in his stomach. 

“I would not risk you on this Quest. Once Erebor is reclaimed, you will be most welcome, and you will have your pick of all the Alphas in the mountain.” His true meaning was understood, but the younger dwarf couldn’t even bring himself to be flattered that the king would offer himself to Gimli. He felt like he was going to be sick. He had pulled away from the other’s grasp and walked out without another word.

He had quietly and solemnly bid farewell to the members of the company, but his words were only half-hearted at best. Fili and Kili had been especially disappointed with his less-than-enthusiastic send-off, but Gimli couldn’t bring himself to muster up anything other than numbness. 

As he stood with his mother and the Lady Dis, watching the company fade from view, Dis said to him, “You are truly lucky, Gimli; luckier than myself or your mother. You will have many suitors that will court you – not simply because you are an omega, but because they love _you_.” 

His mother had smiled serenely at that and added, “It is true. You will not have trouble finding suitors with true intentions, but I do not envy your choice when the time comes. It will be a difficult one to make.”

Gimli had heard their words, but they meant nothing to him. He didn’t feel lucky; he felt empty. The words inside his head seemed to play on repeat: _If anyone I love dies on this Quest, while I stay behind like a princess trapped behind the castle walls, then I will never forgive myself._

**60 years later.**

Gimli had never taken a mate. He had never truly wanted to – not when it was forced upon him – but deep down, he had always been resigned to the fact that he would eventually fulfill his duty, if only for his honor’s sake. 

Yet after Thorin, Fili, and Kili had died, Gimli just couldn’t bring himself to do it. His father and mother still held out hope that he eventually would, and as much as he hated disappointing them, he knew that he ultimately would. The only one who did to seem to understand was the Lady Dis.

During the Council of Elrond, Gimli had been shocked when the hobbit had declared that he would take the ring to Mordor. By all rights, the hobbit was not a warrior. He did not look strong or capable with a weapon, yet he was going to defy everyone’s expectations of him and embark on a tremendously dangerous mission. Gimli felt a surge of respect and admiration for Frodo. 

“By my life or death, if I can protect you, I will. You have my sword,” Aragorn declared, and Gimli felt his heart race from the possibility. Gimli chanced a look over at his father, who did not seem to realize his son’s inner turmoil. Did he dare? He desperately wanted to. 

“And you have my bow,” the elf continued. That was it. He was doing this. 

Before Gimli couldn’t think anymore, he stood and proclaimed, “And my axe.” No one else in the council thought much of his declaration, but he heard his father’s pained gasp, and Gimli could not bring himself to look at the hurt and disappointment on his face. 

As he packed for the journey, he felt his father standing behind him in the shadows and watching him. He sighed, turning around and steeling himself for the inevitable argument. So he was surprised when his father merely approached him calmly, silently handing him another shirt to pack. He blinked in shock, opening and closing his mouth for a moment as he tried to figure out what to say. 

“ _Adad_?” He finally managed to get out. His father looked at him, and it broke Gimli’s heart to see the sadness in Gloin’s eyes.

“I do not understand you, Gimli. I suppose I never have.” Gimli opened his mouth to respond, but Gloin silenced him with his hand. 

“But I suppose it doesn’t matter at this point. You are an adult, and you have made your own choice; one that you cannot take back.” Gimli nodded in understanding, hoping that Gloin understood that Gimli did not regret his decision. His father seemed to grasp his meaning, and Gloin sighed. 

“I want you to know something, Gimli. Even though you did not make the choice that I had I hoped you would, I am proud of you. I always have been.” His eyes held no trace of a lie, and Gimli blinked back the tears that formed, swallowing over the lump in his throat, as he pulled his father into a hug. 

It was so similar to the hug that his father had given him so many years ago in the forest, but everything was so different now. He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against his father’s. 

“Thank you, _adad_ ,” he whispered, and Gloin smiled, though there was still a residual sadness in it. 

“Be careful, _muhudel_ ,” Gloin whispered back, and the younger dwarf nodded in a silent promise. 

As Gimli set out with his companions, it was his father’s turn to watch as he grew smaller in the distance. Despite the heavy darkness that weighed upon this mission, Gimli’s heart felt light. He was finally doing what he was meant to do all along. 

_This_ was his duty.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated <3
> 
>  _uzfakuh_ \- my greatest joy  
>  _muhudel_ \- blessing of blessings  
>  _inùdoy_ \- son  
>  _adad_ \- father


End file.
